Miami Tryst

“Hello,” the man at the bar said, smiling as Brooke sat down.

She gave him a sideways, unimpressed stare before dismissively saying, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not interested in a hookup.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any offence,” came the embarrassed reply.

Brooke gave the man another sideways glance and saw his uncomfortable expression.

She looked irritated. She only wanted a meal and a drink alone. She had been harassed by unwanted advances from men the night before and the night before that, too.

His profuse apology annoyed her. How dare he make her feel bad! Then she softened. The man had an accent; he sounded British, but not a British accent she recognised.

“No, I’m sorry,” Brooke apologised in return. “That was rude of me.”

“It’s perfectly understandable,” he told her, still sounding embarrassed.

“Are you always this nice?” she replied, her irritation returning.

“It’s better than being rude. I’m Mark,” he said, offering his hand to shake.

She looked at it briefly before reluctantly taking it. “I’m Brooke.”

“Are you here on holiday?”

“Holiday?” she asked, looking confused. It was February.

“I’m sorry, I mean vacation. Are you here on vacation or maybe business?”

“I beg your pardon?” Brooke started to look offended.

“Are you here on vacation or have you come to Miami as part of your job?” Mark asked again. He looked flustered at his attempt to get himself understood.

The bartender couldn’t stop himself from laughing at their misunderstanding.

Brooke took a moment to get Mark’s meaning. “On holiday,” she told him, her guilt making her help him out. “Yourself.”

“Business,” he said. “I have an important client here in Miami. So, I come quite often.”

“Do you like it?”

“It can be lonely sometimes, but the weather is warm. It beats a cold and rainy day in England any day,” he laughed.

Brooke laughed with him. “I hear that. I’m from Wisconsin. From the Green Bay area. This time of year, the wind from the Great Lakes is freezing, and don’t get me started on the snow.”

Mark continued to laugh, pretending he knew where Brooke was from, but she could tell he had no idea.

“I live close to Lake Michigan. It’s between the States and Canada.”

Mark nodded but still looked like he wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

“Where in England are you from? I haven’t heard an English accent like yours before.”

“Bristol. It’s in the south-west. It’s a big city, well, not that big by American standards. Everyone I meet here struggles with placing my accent.”

“It’s strange but nice,” Brooke said, meaning it as a compliment.

She turned slightly to look at Mark properly. He was tall and well-built. His clothes appeared tight on his taught, muscular frame. His brown hair had a few flecks of grey in it, but it made him appear slightly distinguished rather than look old. Although his face was scarred, his accent made him sound friendly rather than threatening, giving him a certain charm.

“Did you serve?” she asked inquisitively.

“What?”

“Were you a military man? You look like you served.”

“Oh,” Mark laughed at another misunderstanding. “No. I played rugby. I retired last year. I tore a knee ligament in a game. I was a back rower.”

“A what now?”

“An outside flanker. It’s a forward. I played number seven. I was semi-pro but never could become professional, no matter how much I tried.”

Mark took out his phone to show Brooke a video of one of his matches.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, looking horrified at the brutality. “Do people make money playing this? Do people want to?”

Mark laughed at Brooke’s reaction. “The top professionals make very good money. Nothing compared to American sportsmen or footballers, I mean soccer players. I did alright, though. The extra income at my level helped fund a nice lifestyle, fancy vacations, and all that.”

“Did it hurt?”

“What did?”

“Tearing your ligament?”

“You have no idea,” he grimaced at the memory.

“Your wife must have been worried.”

Mark’s good humour evaporated. “You would have thought so, but she was too busy shagging her co-worker, Jake. An A-grade, arrogant arsehole. I was in the hospital in the worst pain of my life, and no one could get hold of her for hours. She confessed everything to me while I was in a hospital bed recovering from surgery. She told me that she was leaving me for him!”

“I’m so sorry!” Brooke reached out and squeezed Mark’s hand in sympathy.

“We’re divorced now. She was so lost in her affair that she gave me a good deal. I kept the house, which was something. It’s her week with the kids if they’re staying with her. They hate him and hate staying at his place, so they often stay with my ex’s parents.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.”

“Well, I ain’t complaining. I’d rather my kids be with my ex-in-laws than him. They aren’t bad people. To expect them to cut off their daughter was too much to ask and not good for my kids. They are nice to me when I pick up the kids, and my kids say their mum and her parents argue over Jake. Apparently, he’s not allowed in the ex-in-laws’ house,” Mark gave a satisfied laugh. “Being alone has meant I had to earn more, which is why I’m here. Co-parenting means I can travel for work.”

“Do your children mind?”

“Saying goodnight to them is hard with the time difference. Jake hates it when I call, so I call every night. My kids love me calling when I’m away. They think I’m some big shot, and that makes Jake insecure. They also love the presents I bring them,” Mark laughed mischievously. “How about you? I’m not sure your husband would like you talking to some strange guy.”

Brooke shook her head. “I’m not married either. At least not anymore. I’m on a post-divorce holiday by myself. The floozy’s name is Cindy, fake blonde hair, fake tits, fake smile and fifteen years younger than me.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said sympathetically. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“It does, but I’m not sorry. Time away from him has made me realise I’m stronger than I thought, and I’m better off without him.”

“Good for you! Do you have children?”

“Just a daughter. She’s furious with her father.” Brooke thought for a moment before she asked nervously, “Would you care to have dinner with me?”

“Like a date,” Mark asked with surprise.

“No,” Brooke replied firmly. “Like two friends, and we’ll split the check. I’m enjoying our conversation, and I want to keep talking.”

“I’d love to. I’m enjoying myself too.”

Brooke and Mark went to the hotel restaurant. For the first time in a long time, Brooke felt like she was having fun. It was a surprise that it was with this Englishman with the strange accent.

As she swirled her wine in her glass, she watched Mark as he spoke. It may have been the wine talking, but he was handsome in a rugged way. He was intelligent and actually listened to her when she spoke. He asked questions when she spoke. He sounded interested in what she had to say, and not because he wanted to sleep with her. She was surprised she felt safe in this stranger’s company. Where had he been all her life?

“I wouldn’t have cheated on you,” she murmured in her own world.

“I’m sorry,” Mark asked, blushing furiously.

Brooke blushed with embarrassment too, realising she had said her thoughts out loud.

“Why did your ex-wife ever cheat on you?” she added, trying to salvage herself. “Mark, you are great company, interesting and easy to talk to. It’s a mystery to me why she did what she did when she had a great guy!”

“I wonder that every day. There must be something wrong with me.”

“Don’t you think that! You’re great as you are.”

“So are you,” Mark replied. “Perhaps you were too much of a woman for your ex, and he wasn’t man enough for you. You’re an attractive woman, Brooke. Smart and confident.”

“Not so confident,” she disagreed.

“You seem plenty confident to me.”

Brooke smiled at Mark’s compliments. They felt good to hear.

She held up her wine glass for a toast. “To our exes, fuck ’em!”

“Fuck ’em!” Mark laughed in agreement. “Man, I couldn’t do this with my ex. It feels good to be relaxed with a woman for a change. Do you want to go out for mojitos?” he asked. “My client keeps telling me to go to this bar, but I don’t want to go on my own.”

“Mojitos in Miami? Hell yeah!” Brooke agreed. The wine made it impossible for her to say no.

They jumped into a taxi and arrived at a bar where Latin music spilt out onto the street. The mojitos lived up to their reputation, and Brooke and Mark drank and danced the night away until Brooke gave him the time-out sign.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed apologetically. “This American lady can’t keep up with your English tolerance for alcohol. I should call it a night.”

“Okay,” Mark agreed in disappointment. “Do you want to go for a walk to sober up? It’ll help with the hangover.”

Brooke nodded her agreement. Mark bought them both a bottle of water and, later, an ice cream as they walked through the city by the ocean together. They stopped and sat on the beach to watch the waves wash onto the shore.

“Mark, you are great company, you know that?” she smiled.

“So, are you?” Brooke wasn’t sure what Mark was thinking, but she was glad he did as he leaned in to kiss her.

Brooke wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but she leaned towards him to receive his kiss.

It was unexpectedly gentle. Its softness and the alcohol woke things inside her that she had thought were lost. She allowed his tongue to enter her mouth with a moan as she held onto him as they fell to the sand.

His body was heavy yet strong. There didn’t appear to be part of him that wasn’t hard. Feeling his big arms around her made her feel safe from the world.

Just when she thought she would get lost in his kiss, a light came over them.

“You need to leave the beach immediately!” the harsh voice told them.

They looked up and quickly jumped to their feet when they saw the angry police officer. They walked off the beach hand in hand, apologising to the police officer, who looked at them with disdain.

“Mark,” Brooke said hopefully, as they looked for a taxi. “I think I want to make you my first.”

“Your first?”

“The first person I have sex with after my divorce.”

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, feeling hopeful too.

“It feels right,” she explained. “I’ve had so much fun tonight. Finishing it by having sex with you feels like the perfect ending. I need this to finish healing and finally get my ex out of my system. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, to be honest, you’ll be my first, too. I thought my ex had put me off women until I met you. We can heal each other if you’re okay with that?”

They arrived at the hotel and fell into Brooke’s room, tearing each other’s clothes off.

“Oh!” Brooke moaned as Mark kissed her neck as they lay in each other’s arms in their underwear. “That feels so good.”

Mark’s size and strength belied his gentleness. Brooke needed to feel protected from the world, and he was doing that in spades.

She could feel his cock pushing out from his boxers. It felt big. At least, it was bigger than her ex’s. A sense of regret came over her. She only had her ex to compare to him. He was her high school sweetheart, her first for everything. Twenty years she wasted on him. In one night, Mark made her feel more valued than he ever did.

Oh, God! What Mark was doing felt so good. He felt so good to touch. Strong, muscular and dominant.

Brooke’s hand drifted down to find its way inside his boxers, and her fingers circled his cock. The length and girth made her feel excited and nervous. It was new, but could she take it? God! She hoped she could.

Her body had never felt this alive. It was as if it had awoken to new wants and desires. She never knew she could feel like this. What she was doing with this stranger felt so illicit.

Her parents would never approve if they knew. Her church would gossip about her. Her friends would be jealous. Her ex-husband would be furious. Ha! Fuck him. She was a woman worthy of sex. He never thought so because he could never make her feel this way.

“Ah!” Mark cried out. “Don’t squeeze so tight.”

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he assured her, taking off his boxers.

She bit her lip, feeling a little intimidated as he effortlessly pulled her up and removed her bra in one motion before falling on her as if he were devouring her.

A large hand took her breast. She didn’t think she was small, but his large hand covered her breast with ease. Her hard nipple squeezed between his thick fingers.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, his brown eyes full of fire as he looked down at her.

She could only smile shyly. She couldn’t remember the last time someone called her beautiful.

“Lie down!” she demanded.

What was she doing? She was going to put this stranger’s cock in her mouth. This stranger’s big, thick and intimidating cock. It was magnificent.

His moan was a sexy, deep baritone.

His cock stretched her jaw painfully, but it was worth it. It was worth it to take him into her mouth and prove to herself she could make a man feel good. She could make a strong, powerful man moan with ecstasy. She could do this. She was somebody!

Two large hands lifted her head from his cock. His smile couldn’t hide his restraint from letting her continue. His look was all she needed to feel good about herself. It was all she needed for her self-esteem to return.

Mark flipped her onto her back with ease. His fingers pulled off her panties. Brooke breathed with excitement.

He kissed her and parted her thighs. She had never felt so wet.

She gasped as he entered her. She felt so full! His cock felt so…

No! It didn’t feel like a cock. Oh God! It was his finger. How was it possible? Oh God! Another.

Brooke felt herself begin to lose herself. She was squeezing his fingers as hard as she could. Her mind was going blank. The only thing that mattered in her world was what magical thing he was doing to her pussy.

An orgasm shook her. His fingers left a gaping emptiness, but the rubbing of her clitoris brought another orgasm, which distracted her.

But this wasn’t why she asked him to bed.

Brooke pulled at Mark with all her strength. She needed him on top of her. She needed his cock inside her.

Her mouth opened wide with a soundless gasp as his head parted her lips and his cock slowly entered her.

She raised her hips to let him go deeper. There was more of him, and then more.

She felt pain at first, then pleasure.

He waited a moment before he began moving. He was a considerate lover, but she needed to be fucked, not loved in the safe place he created for her.

High-pitched and low-pitched grunts merged into each other. The smell of sex filled the air.

Brooke’s ex never made her feel like this. Utterly dominated.

Her fingers dug into his flesh. Her teeth bit into his shoulder. Orgasms rocked her body.

Time was meaningless.

Then he lost control. He thrust hard and came.

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling embarrassed. “I didn’t want to be so quick.”

It took Brooke a moment to realise what he meant. She pulled his head to hers and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth.

“What are you sorry for? You gave me everything I needed and more.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you! Mark, you’ve given me an amazing gift I’ll never forget.” Brooke smiled, feeling the stickiness of his cum between her thighs.

“I had better clean myself,” she laughed. She felt light as a feather.

When she returned, she lay in his arms, her head on his shoulder. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

They talked and laughed until they drifted off to sleep.

Brooke woke in the morning alone. A note was left where Mark’s head should have been.

Brooke,

Thank you for last night. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Sex with you was something I can’t forget.

If you ever plan to come to England, email me at [email protected]. I would love to meet you again.

Mark

Brooke smiled. She felt ready to take on the world again. Free of her ex and his negativity.

She wouldn’t meet him again, but she would email him to thank him for making her feel like a woman again.